


All the Pieces of Me and You

by MaeDay (Wolf_Shadow)



Series: BayoJeanne Week Tumblr 2017 [4]
Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_Shadow/pseuds/MaeDay
Summary: Bayonetta is fractured but whole, Jeanne is solid but scattered. They are each Broken in very different ways. Perhaps that’s what will let them help heal one another.Set right after the events of Bayonetta 1





	All the Pieces of Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the BayoJeanne Week over on Tumblr, the Prompt was Amnesia. I hope you enjoy!

    “So, how much do you remember?” Jeanne wasn’t looking at her, her steel colored eyes focused on the half eaten cake between them, poking at it with a fork until it wobbled slightly.

    Bayonetta pursed her lips and glanced to the side, watching the chaotic stream of the airport terminals for a moment. “Only bits and pieces,” she looked back at Jeanne, “new things like to come back through when I least expect it, though I suppose I’ve stopped receiving all the ones that lead to new and interesting powers.”

    There was a quick quirk in the corner of Jeanne’s lips, a far cry from the smile Bayonetta had hoped to elicit, but it was better than nothing. She moved forward to snag a hearty forkful of the black forest cake slice, moving at a casual pace to see if Jeanne would protest the imbalance. When Jeanne continued to stare blankly at the dessert without acknowledging it’s diminishing size, Bayonetta sighed softly and consumed the overlarge bite anyway. She wasn’t going to waste good cake, especially not good German cake while in Germany.

    Alright, so it was a prepackaged slice bought from an overpriced cafe in Frankfurt airport, but it still tasted delightful. Liminal space as any airport store, lounge or cafe was, this particular one was quiet, just the two of them at a table pressed against the wall.

     It was…. Nice, confusing but nice.

    “...What exactly do you remember, Cereza?” Jeanne still wasn’t looking at her.

    Bayonetta flinched slightly. The name jarred around in her head like a bell clapper. Loud and echoing, reverberating around empty space until it struck upon stuck places that vibrated memories loose.  
     She shrugged one shoulder and stabbed at the cake. “Just… parcels. Things tend to come back when they relate to what’s going on in the present."

     Jeanne’s eyes flickered up, a flash of…. Something. Fear? Hope? Passed across her face. Then she looked away again with a low hum of acknowledgement.

     They sat in silence for a minute, save for the ever present buzz of the airport. Bayonetta fidgeted with the collar of her shirt and alternated between glancing at Jeanne and watching the crowd.

    “So… do you have a lot of things squirreled all over the world ‘just in case’?” She adjusted the borrowed shirt for emphasis, very much catching the way Jeanne’s eyes land on her breasts (pulled a bit too tight in by the blue blouse, Jeanne was several sizes smaller than she was in that department) and marking another point in the topic they so desperately needed to discuss but were neatly avoiding.

    “Only some places, I tend to keep a decent amount of money in a bank in every major country, so I can go out and purchase whatever I need at any given time.” she takes a sip of her black coffee, Bayonetta using the distraction to let her eyes linger over Jeanne’s outfit, a red longsleeve shirt decorated with lovely floral patterns all stitched in white. It was a beautiful compliment to her platinum hair and crimson lipstick. “It’s too easy to forget things if you leave them in one place for too long, then suddenly you’re getting a letter from a subway station in Madrid that the locker you rented in 1968 is going to be destroyed in the renovation, and could you please come claim your ‘Mother’s’ things.” She air quoted the word ‘mother’ with a roll of her eyes.

    That made Bayonetta laugh, which made Jeanne smile very slightly in turn.  
    “Really I could see why that would get rather annoying after a while. But why bother with normal clothes in the first place? I just stay in character whenever I’m traveling, easier to deal with sudden distractions that way.”

    This time, Jeanne flinched. “I spent… a lot of time pretending to be things I wasn’t, and that required looking like someone, normal.” She looked down at her coffee for a moment, her gaze lost in some far distance that Bayonetta could not reach, could not even begin to touch for the fear and hurt of it all.

    Then Jeanne looked back up and her haughty mask was pulled in place, a smirk across her lips. “Well that and it’s far more comfortable to flight first class in a seat you can sit all by yourself in. How in all the trinities do you stand traveling in Purgatorio on nine hour flights? Surely some of the time you have to sit in someone in order to have any place to sit at all.”

 “It’s a lot cheaper that way,” Bayonetta shrugged slightly, “and you get used to the feeling after a bit, though I do feel a bit sorry for the person I’d sit in, they tended to get rather chilled after a while.”

    “You don’t even get a meal when you fly that way, so unpleasant.” Jeanne finally took a bite of cake and smirked, but the expression was still distant, and she said nothing about how small their shared treat had become.

    “That’s why you have places like this,” Bayonetta waved to the counter and the very bored cashier behind it, “stop in here, buy lunch, find another flight where you need to go, and all you’ve had to purchase is one overpriced airport meals.”

    “And what? You did that all in your Umbran battle uniform?” Jeanne looked at her twisted updo hair, still sporting her pretty red ribbons. “I’d hardly call that subtle Cereza, weren’t you ever questioned by security?”

    “I was in and out of Purgatorio before anyone was any the wiser, and besides,” she gestured to the crowds just outside of their quiet nook, “have you ever really studied some of the people coming and going in any large airport? I was barely on the radar for strange sights. The most I ever got asked was if the charms were religious.”

    “What did you tell them?” there was a crack in Jeanne’s tight mask, a ray on intense focus shining through.

    Bayonetta blinked, then tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. “I just smiled charmingly and said yes, very personal meaning to them, he was too distracted to ask anything after that.”

    “Ah.” the focus bled into disappointment before Jeanne could conceal it.

    Bayonetta waited, but when Jeanne continued to look blankly over her shoulder she frowned. “So, what do they mean? The charms on my uniform.”

    Jeanne took another drink of coffee before replying. “That particular uniform is one of the oldest designs, the charms represent the story of the Umbran rise to power told through the stages of the moon.”

    “There are other uniforms?” Bayonetta asked with surprise, straightening in her seat and grinning with interest.

    At least until she saw the stricken look on Jeanne’s face, the look so deeply sad that she felt immensely guilty for asking.

    Jeanne’s eyes took on a brighter shine for a moment, but she blinked rapidly and cleared her throat before answering in a clear tone. “Of course, we are… were a proud clan with many talented and visionary artists, and what more blessed a pallet could one ask for than their own body and the ability to weave their hair at will?”

    With a hum, Bayonetta nodded. “Well, I appear to have much to learn. Let’s start with going back to the charms, what do they mean exactly?” she was doing her best to steer this conversation into less painful territory, but between her lack of memory and Jeanne’s deep sorrow, it was a tricky prospect.

    “Moving from your left hand to your right, the first charm it represents the waning moon, the beginning of moonlight upon the earth. The red symbol at the top represents the first Umbra, small in number but standing high in their mission.” Jeanne was avoiding looking at her again, her right hand idly playing with her fork, “the second charm is the stage of waning gibbous, nearly full but not quite, the red circle has moved down to the center of the crescent shape and is larger, this was our time of growth, becoming stronger, more powerful. Gaining deeper ties to Inferno and all the powers it could offer us.”

    Bayonetta jumped slightly when something tapped lightly on the inside of her left calf, Jeanne’s smirking at her reaction. Her expression true, if fleeting. “The smaller charm on your left leg, that’s for the full moon, the absolute height of our powers. The charm is in the center now, and the red is split, it tells of the Umbra at the height of our power, but split across the world and splintered into many factions who evolved differently with each passing year. We were all across the globe, witches on every continent, of every color, race and creed, but we didn’t have enough unity.”

    Jeanne’s foot shifted and tapped the inside of her right calf this time, Bayonetta smirking back and flexing the muscle at the contact. It was gratifying to see the playful glimmer return to Jeanne’s gaze, now if only she could keep it there.

    “The right leg, this is the moons stage of waning, it’s beginning to fade. Our red crest has moved back to the left.” Jeanne took another bite of cake, looking somehow both saddened and proud, “there was a time when our differences, small though they were compared to our true mirrors, the Lumen sages, had caused the umbra factions to cloister themselves away from dissimilar views. Each drawing into themselves and focusing on their own particular beliefs, unique practices. It was….” she toyed with the fork, tapping it lightly against the plate as she considered. “It wasn’t altogether bad, each of them grew stronger in different ways, so intent on their own centers, but… well, we begun to realize that while we had done this, the sages had spread their word through the people. Their truths being filtered and watered down in different, very appealing ways. Suddenly the umbra weren’t respected keepers of darkness, those who handle the deep dark to keep humanity safe from it, but rather devil worshippers. We had so sequestered ourselves that we were nearly nothing but myth, fairytales mothers tell their children to scare them into behaving.”

    Bayonetta nodded, this made a great deal of sense, historically speaking. It was also enjoyable to hear Jeanne elaborate in such a way, she could easily believe that Jeanne worked in the mortal world as a history teacher, she spoke in smooth factional tones that were nonetheless captivation. Or maybe that was Bayonetta’s own very enchanted mind at work.

    “There was much debate about what was to be done, and whether this was the work of subtle subterfuge on the Sages part,” Jeanne propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her upturned palm, “ultimately, it was decided they weren’t that clever or underhanded, although many, including myself, always had doubts about that conclusion. I suppose it doesn't matter now. In any case, the situation forced all of the factions to reconsider what it meant to be Umbra, how we should best carry out our purpose and grow as the world changed. Which leads to,” Jeanne reached over and tapped her right hand where it rested on the table, “the charm on the inside of your right arm, it’s is for the waxing crescent of the moon, almost fully obscured in darkness again. The red has split into many circles and spread out around the edges of the circle, all of them stemming from a single point that rests on the border. We reconnected, we learned from each other, we grew even greater, and then we created many forms of communication and interconnectivity. We were many, stemming from the one, never again to be fractured.”  
    On the last word, Jeanne’s throat caught, “Well, at least not until the very end.” her face pinched and Bayonetta could see her walls rising, withdrawing all of who she really was to keep herself safe.

    “And the last charm?” She hurried to ask, “What does that one show? Logically it must be the new moon, but what about the history?”

    With a small start, Jeanne refocused on the moment. Her eyes landing on their hands, hers still gently resting on top of Bayonetta’s. There was the faintest dash of red across her cheeks as she drew back, and Bayonetta had to resist the urge to snag her fingers and keep her hand in place.

    “Ah, good deduction,” Jeanne replied with a light smile, “That last one is our hour of glory, our drive to keep pushing ourselves to be better. The moon may be dark, but we were ever watchful, united as one to protect the balance, to protect the Left eye of Darkness.”

    “Right,” Bayonetta let out a breathy laugh, “comes back to the eye again, seems like all my adventures have led right up to that, and here all this time I thought it was just this stone.” she tapped at said stone in the center of her watch, which hung comfortably from her neck on a gold chain. “Turns out all those Saturday morning cartoons were right all along, the real treasure was within me all along.”

    “You are our greatest treasure, Cereza.” Jeanne’s tone was suddenly wistful and she was staring at Bayonetta with such venerable intensity that Bayonetta leaned back away very slightly.

    She couldn’t find anything to say for a moment, and then she steeled herself and shifted closer, shifting her gaze back and forth between Jeanne’s eyes to find the truth in them. “Do you mean the Left eye of Darkness, Jeanne? Or do you mean me?”

    Jeanne swallowed and her eyes widened, but she didn't look away. “It’s one and the same, Cereza.”

    Bayonetta shook her head and slowly reached her hand forward, palm facing upward. “No, it’s not Jeanne. I may be missing a lot of things, but I remember you. It’s always been you.”

    Jeanne’s face paled. She glanced between Bayonetta’s palm and her face with a speed akin to panic.

    “My strongest memories, my powers, realizing who I was… who I am. You were there each time, and I don’t care whatever little game Daddy dearest had you playing, it wouldn’t have worked if it didn’t all mean something.” Bayonetta could feel her heart pounding rapidly, whether by anxiety or hope or fear, she wasn’t sure, but she pressed on as quickly as she could, watching Jeanne’s expression flicker with every word she spoke.  “You and I, we’re bound together as more than Umbran sisters, aren’t we?”

    Jeanne’s lips trembled, and she tried to look away, but Bayonetta’s hand shot forward and gently cupped her cheek, not demanding her attention, just holding softly.

    “Jeanne, talk to me,” her voice wavered slightly, “I keep having flashes of my life, our life from before, and I have these… feelings in my heart I didn’t know I was capable of, but you won’t talk to me.” she bit her lower lip and glanced down, “Every time I think you’ll say something, you’ll tell me something about myself, about us, you shut down. You shut me out and I have to try to dig you back out again,” she dropped her hand from Jeanne’s face and withdrew it to rub it across her own, slipping under her glasses to rub at her eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, I’m Bayonetta, but in the next second, I’m remembering Cereza, and they are the same but different and I’m caught somewhere in the middle. The only thing that’s always true, always the same, it’s you.”

    Jeanne was watching her from the corner of her eyes, her body tense and expression drawn in, she looked almost ready to bolt, or pass out.

    “I’ve been looking for answers for so long, trying to figure out who I was without any leads or any hope. I had to learn to be as content as I could be with not knowing anything, and this… now,” she laughed without humor, “now it’s everything and nothing. I remember Mummy, I remember finding her body, I remember the nights I’d fall asleep outside her cell, wishing she could hold me close just one more time, but I don’t remember what she sounded like, I don’t even remember what she looked like under her cowl, if I ever knew at all.” she lowered her hand to cover her mouth for a moment. She wasn’t crying, wasn’t quite close to that, unlike Jeanne who had unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, but she was very much fracturing at the edges.

 “I have some, automatic reflexes with my powers, I knew enough to form my battle attire, but had no idea what any of it meant. I knew witch time and how to fight, but I had no idea I had beast forms, or the ability to walk along walls.” she shook her head, “I feel like I’ve been living in the same pattern of the charms, starting small and lost, I grew in strength and found a place for myself, a center, even if it was missing something. Now I learn that the world has gone on around me, and there was so much more than I had even considered there to be. One Sage, and two witches, but the problem was the same, we were separate and distant from each other,” she set her hand back down on the table, open palm up and inviting, “and I feel we are still stuck there, on that fourth charm, we’re here in the same space, but not the way we should be, not the way we were.”  
    Jeanne was fully facing her now, shoulders rigid and arms crossed. She took a shuddering breath and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Maybe that’s a good thing, Bayonetta. So much is different-”

    “Don’t you dare!” Cereza snapped, her face turning into a flinty glare, “don’t you dare pull away from me again, not when I’m open to you. You don’t get to decide this for us, Jeanne. You have to talk to me. Because I love you,” Cereza drew in and then let out a long shuddering breath of her own, Jeanne flinching back slightly at her words as more tears streaked down her face, “That’s the only thing that is always the same in my memories, I love you, and I know you love me too.”  
    Jeanne raised a shaking hand to viously wipe at her eyes, “It’s been so long, we’re different people and I-I don’t want to lose you, I didn’t want to bring up the past if you didn’t already know, I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between us,” Jeanne’s lips pinched in, “I can’t lose you again, I couldn't live with myself if i drove you away. Things are so different-”

    “Jeanne,” Cereza interrupted softly, “do you still love me?”

    “Yes.” Jeanne replied without a second of hesitation, her voice rough and panicked, “there was never a moment I stopped loving you, not in all these centuries, not even when Balder had his spells over me, I have always loved you.”

    They stared at each other then, the world around them completely forgotten.

    “Then… why are we at this impasse?” Cereza questioned, her tone still soft, almost lost.

Jeanne loosened her arms and set a hand down on the table, not quite touching Cereza’s. “You said it yourself, you’re not quite sure who you are. Two parts of you, similar but grown independently, are trying to become someone new again. And I….” her face was filled with such sorrow it broke Cereza’s heard, “I’m not who I was five hundred years ago either, I never forgot, but maybe it would have been kinder if I had. I was alone and very bitter for a long time, then Balder found me and he-” her throat must have caught for she stopped and had to take several deep breathes before she went on, “what he did, the magic he used to make me obedient… it crushed me, Cereza. All I had left were my anger and hatred and fury, all he had to do was point me in whatever direction he wanted and I could level cities. I’m not a good person.”

    Hot tears spilled down Cereza’s cheeks and she had to bite back a sob, “Jeanne, oh Jeanne,” she took the initiative and covered Jeanne’s hand with her own, wrapping her fingers around it tightly, “He made you do those things, Jeanne, he molded you into what he needed, used what parts of you he found useful, it’s not your fault.”

    Jeanne didn’t pull her hand away but she didn’t squeeze back, “I’m afraid he destroyed the parts of me that weren’t useful to him, I’m afraid I will never be the person I was, the person I want to be, the woman you loved. I didn’t want to tell you because I am not sure you should love me anymore, and I’m scared that this new person I am won’t love you because you’re partly Bayonetta now. I just- I don’t know anything, Cereza, I don’t know at all and I’m terrified.”

    “You think I’m not scared?” Cereza half laughed, half sobbed, “I’ve spent the last twenty years in limbo, I’ve never had a problem I couldn’t just shoot or walk away from. I’ve lived my life just skimming the surface of things, because it was easier to stay in the shallows and have fun, but this is real, and I am drowning in it. But the way I feel, both now and in my memories, it's real, you’re real, and I don’t want to,” she shook her head, “I won’t let you go, let us go, without fighting for it, but I can’t do it alone,” she squeezed Jeanne’s hand, and felt a rush of relief when Jeanne wrapped her thumb around hers in response, “it’s going to take both of us. Maybe we are different, damaged, but that shouldn’t mean we give up without trying.     What this is, what we are. It was enough for you to help train me all those years, it was enough for me to have hope and to keep going, even if I knew I’d never be accepted.”

    Jeanne’s ashen face looked stricken, “You remember that?”

    She nodded, “Not all of it, but I remember you were always the one bright person in my life, you always looked out for me, cared about me in a way no one besides my mother ever did, even before we loved each other.”

    Jeanne half smirked through her tears, “I think I always loved you, just a little bit, even as a child.”

    Cereza smiled back, tears still silently slipping down her cheeks, “How can that not be worth fighting for?”

    Jeanne choked out a laugh as well, glancing away for a second, but her smile was real, and it brought light to Cereza’s chest, “When you put it that way, I guess I can’t really argue.” her hand turned over so that their palms met, fingers gently grasping and holding close.

    “We can do this,” Cereza said firmly, free hand reaching over to gently wipe Jeanne’s tears away, “we can built the fourth charm, you and I. Share each other and build each other back, but we need to talk about things. Isn’t communication crucial to the symbolism there?”

    Jeanne raised her free hand to wipe Cereza’s tears away. So they sat, each with their one hand clasped, each holding each others face with a lovers tenderness.

    “You always were a cheeky pupil Cereza, I’d like to think it’s how I learned to be so patient with my students.” Jeanne’s happiness was fragile, but still intact, and it was a start.

    “Had to keep you interesting Jeanne, you were always so stuffy when you weren’t spending time with me.” Cereza teased, her fingertips lightly playing with Jeanne’s golden earring.

    Jeanne scoffed with a minor eye roll, but Cereza cut her off before she could snark back.

    “So we’ll work on this charm, together, and then you and I can become the last charm. The best Umbra the world has ever seen, something new and unique. We’re both one of a kind, and together, we’re a hell of a pair.”

    There was really nothing more to say, and they both knew it. They moved as one to meet in the center, their kiss tentative and gentle. Cereza tasted the rich choclate of the cake on Jeanne’s lips, the flavor mixing with a heady natural vanilla that was purely Jeanne. It was familiar and warm, it felt like returning home after a long day in the cold, it felt like her first taste of honey after years of eating plain oats.

    Given the low moan that left Jeanne’s throat, Cereza wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

    *Flight 456 outbound for Manhattan has begun boarding, all passengers please proceed to gate A14 for loading. Flight 456 outbound for Manhattan*

    “Jeanne,” Cereza murmured around their kiss, Jeanne just hummed in reply, “Jeanne, that’s our flight.”

    Jeanne pressed forward, hardening their kiss for a brief second, then pulled away with a reluctant sigh. “So it is, of all the terrible timing.”

    Cereza chuckled and took up a disposable napkin, using it to help gently wipe the last of Jeanne’s tear stains from her cheeks. “Be grateful we heard that announcement at all, we hadn’t been hearing any of them for the last half hour, and if we miss this flight we’ll be stuck here till morning. Now finish your cake and let's go home.”

    Jeanne grumbled something under her breath as she returned the gesture and cleared Cereza’s face. She finished her drink of coffee and then grabbed her fork, before blinking down at their plate.

    “Cereza! You ate most of this!”

    With a laugh, Cereza stood from her chair. “That’s what happens when you’re too far into your own head, Jeanne d’Arc. It’s entirely your own fault for letting me get away with it. Now hurry along, we have a plane to haunt.”

    Jeanne hastily shoved the last two bites down, and glared at Cereza when she giggled at the chocolate on the courer of her lips.

    “Let’s go,”Jeanne said, dabbing her lips clean, “just stay close to me.”

    That was something Cereza certainly planned on doing for as long as she was able.


End file.
